


The Delayed Removal

by Trista_zevkia



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-10
Updated: 2011-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:51:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What lengths will Jeeves go to, in an effort to remove Bertie's lip fungus?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Delayed Removal

[You Tube bit where Jeeves dresses as DDM has Bertie in drag as next link must watch to understand, I think](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MnV1O2tL7DI&feature=related)

“No. Absolutely not. Not even for you, dearest aged relation!” I was quit resolved and Jeeves recognized he wasn’t getting his way in this. I can tell by the way he removes the razor from my line of sight and looks to Aunt Dahlia. He walks past her to open the door, encouraging her to leave in a very polite way and triumphant elation floods through me. I’ve got my way, letting the firm line of my iron determination keep my upper lip under my control! I turn to the mirror, carefully observing the thing in question, stroking it gently.

“Jeeves, you must make him see reason!” Aunt Dahlia is in a tough spot and I am sorry for that, it takes a touch of the triumph out of this. But Jeeves always manages to get his way, especially since we came to our little understanding, almost a year ago now. Would it be proper to get him an anniversary gift, other than shaving the mustache? I’d already told Jeeves what he got as a reward for dressing up as the female American novelist, though that would have to wait until we got to the privacy of the flat.

Mind you, I was tempted to show Stilton what I had in mind when I saw Jeeves dressed up that way. Then he made that crack about my mustache and ‘where did he put Little Jeeves, let’s play hide and seek’ was put aside for a bit of tit for tat. I look for him but don’t see him in the mirror. The door is closed and he sent Aunt Dahlia out with a few murmured words of sympathy I wasn’t listening to. Sounds in the bathroom tell me his locale, and I can tell he is filling the tub. Somewhat confused, I step into the bathroom doorway.

“Bit early to dress for dinner, isn’t it?”

“Yes Sir, but I thought the illusion that you were in the bath would account for your time away from coming events.” He’d turned away from the tub to speak, but now he’s stepping toward me.

“An alley-thing like in my detective novels.” I’d know the word a minute ago, and I had wanted to know what I needed a thingy for. But when Jeeves looks at me like that, all my limited brain power goes to getting him out of his clothes.

“An alibi, as well as my apology, Bertram.”

“Tell me more, old fruit.” I wasn’t sure what he was about to apologize for, but he was removing my clothes with an astounding speed. We had to be extra careful and not as frequent when not in the flat, so Little Wooster sprang into action as soon as Jeeves spoke my name. I stepped out of my clothes and reached for his fully clothed self, but he turned away to shut off the water. Impatient, I waited for him to turn back to me but when he did he stayed at arm’s length.

“Please, allow me to remove your socks before we proceed.”

Annoyed at the delay, Little Wooster twitches to remind me of his presence as I turn to find the chair to sit on. I notice my shaving things are arrayed beside the sink next to my target. They’re frothy and wet and waiting to attack my moustache. I start to balk and ask questions, only to find my entire backside warmed with body heat.

I had only turned around and taken two steps, but my keen physical awareness tells me he’s stripped himself from the waist down in that time. It’s a rather strange feeling, top clothed and bottom half not, and I wiggle back into it to get the full effect. His arm wraps around my stomach and he walks us over toward the chair. Nibbling on my neck causes my eyes to close, I don’t know why but it happens. So he nibbled, I closed, and when he bent us toward the wall I reached for its support. He guided my left arm to where he wanted it, but I opened my eyes when I realized it wasn’t to him or the wall. With his supernatural speed he had my left hand tied to the back of the chair on my left before I could formally protest.

“Reggie, love, you know I don’t mind your ideas most of the time, but…” I wasn’t sure how I was going to finish that, but Jeeves understood.

“You are concerned how such activities tend to increase your vocal appreciation of my efforts?”

“Yes!” I was going to add more, but he was nibbling and sucking on my neck. The arm on my waist moved downward so slowly I bent down to encourage it. I felt a chill where he moved away and opened my eyes to see my left ankle was now tied to the left front leg of the chair. “Is that my Drones Club tie?”

“Indeed, Sir, and may I say it never looked better?”

“No you may…” The ‘not’ doesn’t find its way out of my mouth, as Reggie has used my outrage to insert a gag in my mouth. I turn to show him the indignation on my face, hoping I’m hiding the arousal, but he spins us around until he can sit on the chair. When he does that, I find myself sitting on his lap. I wiggle a little to get Little Jeeves pointed in the right direction, and find my right hand being tied to the back of the chair!

I turn an eagle-eyed stare at him, one designed to confirm my steely determination, control of any situation and expectation of having questions answered. Reggie gives me his confused, innocent stuffed frog face, even as his hand trails down the inside of my untied right leg. I shiver at the touch and feel Little Jeeves twitch his appreciation of the maneuver. Little Jeeves is my ticket out of this ride, so I set both my feet on the floor and begin to rock on him.

I don’t get why his hands, free to do whatever they want, are hanging by his sides and not touching me the way I know he wants to. My hands are trying to pull away from my arms in an effort to caress his marvelous skin, which is why the restraints tend to make me so triumphantly noisy when I do get the bliss of touching him. The hiss of my name is a request and a warning, so I speed up the rocking and squeezing. His arms clasp around me and Little Jeeves sends me his own brand of appreciation. I give Reggie a few moments before I wiggle on his lap to get Little Wooster some attention. His hands slide downward with agonizing slowness but both move sideways and avoid Little Wooster. I growl around my gag and the hands stop moving.

“Bertram, have I done something that displeases you? Something I should apologize for?” When his voice hits the husky, wanton note he used to say apologize, my entire body becomes his plaything. Something he knows well, I might add! “That’s correct, we sat here so I could apologize to you.” If other people heard his voice like that, the wars fought for him would make Helen of Troy feel she went cheap.

“I saw it, you know. I saw your amusement at me, dressed as a woman. I also saw your desire. You wanted her, Daphnia Deloris Moorhead.” My brain is struggling to figure out what the words mean, instead of getting lost in the voice. “Bertram, I apologize for not being woman enough for you.”

I don’t want a bezel, I want you however you’re dressed, or not dressed! That’s what I said, it just came out as ednwtbsslewtouheveoudssdrnt! His hands start moving on my legs, that same slow seductive movement that avoids Little Wooster, so I realize he’s got an overly complex plan in play.

“Yes, Bertram, if I was a woman, your life would be so much simpler. A simple ceremony and all the bezels would leave you alone.” There is no reason hearing him use slang should make Little Wooster throb, but it does! “I could give you children, if I was female. My brains and your personality, wouldn’t that be a force to be reckoned with? All the things I could do for you, if I were a woman! Alas.”

Words he knows aren’t true, the things he’s doing with his body to mine? Here it comes I thought, he’s going to ask to shave my moustache. Borrowing some steely resolve from poor Little Wooster, I make ready to deny Reggie’s request, even though it really sounded reasonable right now. “All the things I could do for you, if I was a woman. Instead I must apologize for being a man, unworthy to remove your socks.”

A few gagged syllables escape before I realize he said socks, not moustache. Once again his brain has made a leap and left me on the other side of the chiasm. I don’t see any harm in letting him at my socks, but the position is weird and I can’t tell him so because of the gag. More wiggling on his lap, much to the returning enjoyment of Little Jeeves, gets my left arm stretched to full length and my right leg almost in his lap.

“I can remove your socks? How kind of you, Sir.” He makes up for calling me sir with a bruising kiss over the gag while his hands position and hold my leg. He breaks off the kiss, licks the tip of my nose and uses his right hand to remove the sock and garter. When it’s off, his left hand still has a firm grasp on my thigh. I look to the right hand and see it’s retrieved the shaving brush. I mutter out my protest, even as I try to get my head out of his reach. He ignores this to start lathering my leg in white foam!

Flummoxed, I can only watch as he finished foaming up my shin. From under the towel holding my shaving things, he produces an old fashioned straight edge razor. He pulls it open one handed, and holds it above my leg as he looks at me. Little Wooster grumbles at my curiosity and decides to return to the nest. Reggie gives me a loving smile with his eyes only, and turns back to my leg. Starting at my ankle, the razor slides upward in short, sure strokes, with a wipe on the towel in between. It’s hypnotic, skillful and feels stranger on my leg than it does on my face. When he has most of the shaving cream off, he bends over to look closely at his handiwork. Then he casts his eyes at me and blows cool air over the newly sensitized skin. I suck in a breath, and Little Wooster returns to the ready. Reggie gives me a kiss on the hairless bit of leg and reaches for the shaving brush. Why do I ever doubt this man?

Working toward the outside of my leg, Reggie continues around to my calf and back up to my shin. He’s quick, but by the time he finishes my thigh I’m sure Little Wooster is turning colors. I can’t look away from what Reggie is doing to check, but I feel Little Wooster’s need! I try to get his attention by wiggling on Little Jeeves, but Reggie only nibbles on my neck some more. When I force my eyes open, I see he has the shaving brush back in his hand. I don’t know what’s left to shave in this position, but can only shiver my need into his left hand as it releases my thigh and travels up my torso. I feel like weeping for Little Wooster, as once again he is ignored.

I think Reggie is about to hug me, but I’m gnawing on the gag when I see the shaving brush change hands. I wiggle around and grunt, until something tickling my left underarm distracts me. He’s going to shave my underarm hair? Who does that? Indeed, the shaving brush is being exchanged for the razor he threatened my moustache with earlier. I wiggle and moan until he whispers in my ear. How did I manage to forget he was using that voice on this occasion?

“Relax, my love.” That’s easy for him to say, but it sends a shiver of pleasure through me when he calls me that. I think it’s rather more significant than my first name, all things considered. “I am not going to harm you, and you know how to make me stop.”

I stop wiggling to consider his words. Shortly after we had decided to make our private lives even more adventurous, we’d settled on this. If anything made me uncomfortable, I was to say Agincourt or snap my fingers if my mouth was full. His signals were the same, but he’d never used them. I sometimes had to use them so I could back away and get the most out of the experience, but this wasn’t too bad or scary. Just different, so I nodded at him and let him apply the razor to my armpit. It tickled, then had that scraping feeling of the leg bit. When he was done with my underarm, he kissed my shoulder as he swabbed a cool lotion on the skin. I hiss and moaned, and Little Wooster started begging for the slightest bit of attention.

I was waiting for his directions, telling me where he wanted me but they never came. Instead he ducked under my right arm and slid out from between me and the chair. His left leg was in-between mine and the last bit of him to move away from me. I whimpered at the loss of contact. Yes, I whimpered, it was the only form of communication that was still available to me and a man has to do what he has to do, such as begging Reggie to stay with him! He wasn’t immune to my manly whimper either, as he leaned down to kiss me.

He pulled away from the kiss with the shaving brush in his hands and set to doing my right underarm. Then he knelt in front of me and attended to my left leg as best he could with it still tied to a chair. That done, he leaned back and examined me. Little Wooster tried to wave hello and Reggie reached for his tie. Little Wooster would have leaped off me at that if he could have, as Reggie always took his tie off before taking me in his mouth and throat. When the tie was wrapped around little Wooster, we were both surprised at his need to dress for the occasion. I don’t know if it was a half or full Windsor knot, but it was tight on the base of Little Wooster, squishing my eggs against my cockstand. The shaving brush reappears like a magic trick of hairlessness, and I ask what’s left. He pauses to look up at me.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” He’s asking if I want to stop, but I’m abstaining and Little Wooster, Little Jeeves and Reggie all think we should continue. I like the moustache, but no longer care about it as much as I do making the three of them happy, so I shake my head at him. No, Reggie, I didn’t say Agincourt. He bends to kiss my left knee and I bend forward to give him access to my upper lip. He applies the shaving brush to my eggs and the hairy bit around them and Little Wooster. It’s all the attention Little Wooster needs, or so he thinks. He tries, but there’s no ooha cum spiff coming! Little Wooster forces a protest out of me at this strange devilish trick, and it’s not a manly whine at all.

Reggie holds the razor up so I can see it, but I have to see this through now. Accepting my silence, Reggie moves in to remove the hair. I swear he’s slowed down to a snails crawl, and the razor blade is dulling so it catches on every hair. At each tug Little Wooster is foiled in his attempts to finish his job. If Reggie ever lets up on this spell he has me under, Little Wooster just might destroy this room in his enthusiasm!

I’m pulled from this idea by alternating hot and cold breaths around that sensitive spot. You win, I attempt to shout through the gag, shave the moustache, anything please just let me finish! Reggie looks up at my mutterings, giving me another eyes only smile. His tongue lashes out at Little Wooster, who throbs with pent up need. I can’t help watching this torment, even as Reggie slowly takes me in his mouth. I see the tie is only twisted around Little Wooster, not tied or knotted and then he lets it loose. Little Wooster explodes with a force that takes out all the lights in the house, and the sun too for several minutes or hours.

When Jeeves has rekindled the sun and changed all the light bulbs, I slowly find my way back to a world with light instead of fireworks. Little Wooster is down for the count, but Reggie is pulling on his clothes, having cleaned Little Jeeves and tucked him away. A finger checks the bath is still warm enough and then Jeeves is untying me and removing the sock from my left foot. I probably would have slid bonelessly into the floor, but Jeeves helped me to the tub. Getting in was a struggle, but in I got. Jeeves floated around the bathroom until he felt the need to send me the gentle cough of a sheep apologizing to a bumble bee for eyeballing the same flower.

“Yes, love?” It was all I trusted myself to say, because if I put any energy into words I would have had to shout to the world that Jeeves was a sex god.

“Sir, I seemed to have soiled my tie at some point. I should like to get a fresh one, if you have no immediate need of me?”

“Always need you, love. But go change ties.”

“Very good, Sir.” Just in case I missed the current of love in his voice, I get a kiss to my forehead before the silence tells me he’s gone. Slowly, the water seems to give me strength, when it normally relaxes me, and I start scrubbing the sensitive corpus. When I climb out and dry off, the sight of my shaving things all neatly laid out gets a warm purr out of Little Wooster. How can something I do daily turn into this need just because Reggie did it to a new part of me? I turn to grin at Jeeves when he enters, having just finished my replay of his shaving skills in my mind. Without a word, the world’s most perfect valet and all around human being helps me into my clothes. I just enjoy it, until he helps me tuck Little Wooster in a way he’s never been tucked before.

“I say!”

“It helps with the hang of the skirt, Sir.”

“Oh, I did wonder!” That explains where he put Little Jeeves when he was Daphnia. “Wait, why am I in a skirt?”

“To take the blame for stealing the pearls, Sir.”

“You say it like it’s obvious!”

“Forgive me Sir, but I thought the shaving your mustache was a sign of agreeing to the plan.”

“I shaved my mustache?” I stumble over to the mirror and stare at what I see. My beautiful mustache was gone, and Jeeves hadn’t touched it! I had been so busy thinking of what he did to me while I shaved I automatically trimmed all over my face, much as I have for years. Now that I know Jeeves will trade mind blowing sex for getting his way, I might have to let him win a few battles. And there was that hideous sweater I didn’t buy, bound to still be there when we get back to the metrop. But for now, I have to talk him out of this dressing like a filly wheeze. “This is ridiculous! Nobody will believe I’m a bezel, especially if I have to talk.”

“Perhaps I might suggest a falsetto, Sir?”

“I can’t manage a falsetto!” The squeak that ends that declarative statement mocks me. Et tu voice?

“Consider that you do not have to attempt a falsetto in an American accent.”

“Fine! Falsetto, ugly bezel stealing pearls. But you know that little reward I promised you when we get back to the flat? You can forget it.”

“Very good, Sir.” The smirk in his voice and the look on his face suggest two things. One, female me is worth it and two, he’ll find a way to get it out of me. I can’t wait for option two and want to get option one over quicker than Jack Flash sitting on the candlestick.

“Come on Daphnia, help a fellow filly dress, what?”

 **J <3B **¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ **J <3B **

As Jeeves escorted ‘Beryl’ to ‘her’ quarters to gather ‘her’ things, I ran upstairs to get out of this dress as fast as humanly possible. Jeeves floated in directly behind me, seeming to walk at a calm pace. He stilled my hands as they tugged at the dress and kissed me. While his lips were busy on mine, spreading the lipstick between us, his hands began to undress me. How does a gentleman’s gentleman know about makeup and removing bezels from their frocks? Can’t ask with his lips on mine and tongue loving mine and that hand digging out Little Wooster, who’s well rested after his nap. Wasn’t I going to ask something?

I’m naked and lying back on the bed, except for the wig and maid’s cap, but my hands are too busy digging into his hair to remove them. His tie is only lose as this is just a quick tumble before I’m missed. My skin is still strangely alive, flooding me with feelings as he rubs the hairless bits. It doesn’t take long before I’m overwhelmed. Even as I tremble from the aftermath I get him to sit on the side of the bed. I don’t have a tie, so I form a circle with my forefinger and thumb and hold tightly to the bottom of Little Jeeves. He seems to last longer than I expected, considering the situ. When I’m sure I’ve gotten every last drop of replenishing fluids from him, I sit beside him.

“Jeeves, you shouldn’t have made that apology,” I pause while Little Wooster settles back down, he appreciated the apology!

“Sir, it was an attempt…” I hate to interrupt, but I hold up an interrupting hand.

“Not for that reason. It was risky, because when Aunt Dahlia said Beryl was in trouble, I almost named you as the father.” When he turns to me I’m treated to a rare Jeeves’s smile, which for most people would be a grin.

“I noticed you looked at me when she said that, and you did look rather thoughtful.”

“See? We could be married and all the rest would leave us alone.”

“Amusing, Bertram, but could you really confine Little Wooster to those under things for the rest of your life?”

“A good point. An excellent point that Little Wooster has just weighed in on. He says for calling him by name, you get the reward we promised for dressing up like Daphnia.”

“Very good, Sir.” He stands, straightens his clothes and looks down at my lap. “I look forward to it, Little Sir.”


End file.
